Don't Despair
by mle81589
Summary: AU: Clarke left New York City and Bellamy to live with her mother in D.C. when her father passed away. It's been three years and she starts going to NYU, where Bellamy already goes. Clarke has been hurt and keeps everyone at arms length, but after a heated encounter with Bellamy, will she be able to trust again?


**In this universe, Clarke is a freshman in college, and Bellamy is a junior. I decided to title this story based on Hayao Miyazaki's life/film philosophies. He is one of my favorite Japanese directors and despite being rather pessimistic about the world, he tries to send messages in his films that are positive and encourage viewers to enjoy what life has to offer. I guess I thought that fit the theme of the story pretty well. Anyway, I definitely recommend watching his films so feel free to ask for suggestions!**

* * *

She felt the soft warmth leave her slightly bruised lips. The heated adolescent bodies dancing excitedly around them in the bar only made her hot lips radiate even more. As the seconds passed, Clarke desperately tried to remember the passionate feeling of Bellamy Blake's tender mouth enveloping her lips and the taste of his tongue aggressively battling her own. She just _had_ to remember how it felt forever, so she did her best to imprint the memory into her brain as she finally allowed herself to breathe again. The breaths were as heavy as her heart was pounding and as time finally began to tick by again, she looked up and locked eyes with Bellamy.

They had been drinking with their respective friends and started dancing with each other in a rusty bar near NYU called The Library, neither one recognizing the other as someone of the past. It had been dark and her back had been facing him as she grinded her ass against the growing bulge in his pants to the beat of the song. Clarke had gone out with her friends Jasper and Monty, while Bellamy was out with Murphy and Miller. Both of them had been looking for a hook- up and neither of them expected it to be each other. His hands had been exploring her body as the flowery scent in her hair invaded his thoughts. His thoughts had scoured the depths of his memories to try to explain why the smell was so goddamn nostalgic, but his questions were only answered when she turned around to kiss him.

There was a lightning quick moment of realization in both of their faces before her sweet, moist lips crashed onto his, but it wasn't enough of a reason to stop the kiss. For minutes they allowed themselves to be lost in the moment of pure bliss and their hands to be lost in each other's hair. Bellamy clung onto Clarke as if letting her go would be like giving up oxygen, and Clarke desperately held his head closer to her own in fear that he would pull away and she would have to deal with the consequences of her deliciously sinful actions.

Clarke wasn't going to lie to herself like the romance novels did as a pre-teen. His mouth didn't taste like cherries nor were there heavenly angels singing in the background, but she could taste the minty gum in his mouth and her heartbeat felt far more dramatic than any fireworks could have been, so she counted this long awaited kiss as a win.

Bellamy had been the one to finally pull away and he looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped. She could see the worry forming in his eyes. It might have been because of the lust mixed with regret she just knew was being displayed in her eyes. Clarke didn't want her first time seeing him again to be just sexual. She hated that about herself, that while she could keep an expert poker face, her eyes always betrayed her facetious intentions. Clarke knew that she had only allowed herself to kiss Bellamy because she was so drunk and had just been swept up in the moment of dancing in such an intimate setting and hearing the heartbreaking lyrics playing in the background. She also couldn't help it that their years apart had done him so much justice. His features had matured greatly and his built physique certainly was not helping the cause. Bellamy had grown into a man, and a handsome one at that.

Clarke couldn't help but notice the small droplets of sweat that had developed on his nose and the rest of his now blushing face. The sweat drops were so small that they almost blended into his countless freckles, and the rosy hue on his cheeks no doubt matched the one on her own. The fleetingness of the moment scared Clarke, for she did not know what to expect of Bellamy and didn't want to think of how she might feel if he decided not to re-enter her life because of the confusing occurrences of the night.

There was no doubt in her mind that she had missed this. Him. They had met her sophomore year of high school when she had been staying late after school in the art room painting, while he had secretly been staying late to smoke weed with his friend Murphy (who was still his friend) in the bathroom. They ran into each other outside of the 1st Avenue L-train subway stop, both lost in their own thoughts and not paying attention to their surroundings, and he hit his head falling down on the corner of a newsstand. Clarke, being younger then and more untainted by the evils of the world, was quick to offer her assistance and took the wounded boy back to the large apartment she shared with her father, Jake in the Upper West Side to clean and dress his head. The rest was history.

They had stayed rather close friends for the rest of the semester, and Bellamy even introduced Clarke to his baby sister, Octavia, but when her father died in a car accident, she had been forced to drop her life and move in with her mother in D.C. She didn't stay in contact and neither did he.

Bellamy finally spoke as the corners of his mouth turned into the smirk that Clarke found she was far too used to, "Well, are you gonna say something, princess?"

She let out a controlled smile at the nickname she hated so much from her days as a fifteen year old, and said in a small, very un-Clarke voice, "I don't know what to say."

She mentally kicked herself for allowing such a meek phrase to escape her lips, but she knew that it was because she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss and she couldn't stop feeling his intense gaze burning through her cool exterior.

Bellamy let out a chuckle, most likely because for once, Clarke had no snarky response for him. Bellamy knew that deep down _he_ had no response for that. Despite the years between them, the second he realized who she was, the closeness they had once shared immediately returned to him. He felt almost as if they had never lost contact, but knew that they had many steps to go before returning to that. One of his favorite qualities she always had was her stubbornness and her tendency to always be quick and sharp when talking to others. He was glad she was still the courageous, headstrong girl he had grown to care for his last year of high school, but to Clarke, that meant she could never show weakness, and along with that came the emotional wall she put up. He hated that she had disappeared after her father's death and he could tell that she had only become more closed off because of it. Bellamy also knew that despite her flickering security, she would never purposely let herself appear vulnerable.

Even though she appeared very uncomfortable, Bellamy liked that wall was faltering and that her emotions were peaking out. Bellamy himself was extremely closed off and was only ever completely honest with his sister. Now he wasn't sure if it was just the alcohol talking, but he wanted to expose himself to Clarke and wanted to make sure he never let her escape his life again.

"So, what brings you back home?" Bellamy tried to create some sort of conversation.

Clarke found the word "home" to be extremely comical. For most of her life, home was a large brownstone in Brooklyn that she happily shared with both of her parents. After the divorce, home had become a more modern, but smaller apartment in one of the more expensive neighborhoods in Manhattan that she (still pretty happily) shared with her father and her consolation puppy, Kronos. After Jake had passed away, home became a spacious penthouse in Washington D.C. with her mother, Abigail, and her new boyfriend, Senator Marcus Kane.

Clarke had always liked Marcus Kane, ever since she was a little girl and he was just a close family friend. Abby and Jake had gotten their divorce when Clarke was only eight years old and Abby had started dating Kane five years later. At thirteen, Clarke was angsty and did not initially approve of their relationship, but he eventually won her over again by always paying attention to her and taking her demands very seriously. Abby had been much less attentive over the years and was disappointed in her passion for art.

Clarke had always admired her mother's medical expertise and knew that she had a knack for it, but knew that her heart lied with a paintbrush and not a scalpel. Up until her father's death, she had been set on pursuing painting, but couldn't bring herself to continue afterwards. She was now attending NYU for pre-med and was set on becoming a neurosurgeon (much to her mother's approval).

"School," Clarke replied to Bellamy, much more confident this time.

"Do you go to NYU now?"

"Yes. For pre-med. How about you?"

Bellamy wanted to ask about her love for art and her talent for painting, but bit his tongue. It was too soon.

"I'm a history major. I'm graduating a semester early in a year and a half."

Clarke was reminded of Bellamy's financial situation, and how he was a gifted scholar and could only afford the private high school in Waterside on scholarship. For his whole life, money had always been a problem that plagued Bellamy.

"Do you still live with your mom?" Clarke inquired.

Bellamy scratched his head and looked down at his feet, "Octavia and I have been working part-time so that we could afford to move out together."

Clarke knew that Bellamy was not close with his mother and that it was because of how irresponsible she was. There had been one rare night that Clarke had stayed over at the Blake's house watching movies with Bellamy and Octavia back in high school when their mother, Aurora, had come home drunk, stumbled over to the couch and collapsed. Bellamy awkwardly asked Clarke to go home and walked her to the subway before she could really ask questions about it.

Bellamy spoke again, "Do you want to talk about that kiss?"

Clarke was almost scared that Bellamy had been so forward in addressing what they both knew had happened. She hadn't expected him to actually say the word "kiss" and it caught her off guard. She could tell that they had both sobered up quite a bit since their lips collided together, but that only made the situation harder to deal with.

"Not really."

There was a silent agreement that they had just been horny and caught up in the moment, and also an understanding that neither of them really bought that. There was just too much unspoken tension.

Clarke exhaled deeply and stepped towards him. She did want to be back in his life and was almost hopeful that maybe something could blossom from their reunion. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug.

"I've missed you," she whispered into his chest.

Once recovering from the initial shock from her gesture, Bellamy put his arms around her as well and buried his face in her sweet smelling hair.

"Me too, princess."

* * *

The next day Bellamy woke up to his alarm clock plagued by dreams of Clarke Griffin and her stupid blonde hair and he hated it.

Of course over the past few years he would see something that reminded him of her every so often, but this was getting ridiculous. Ever since he had walked her to the outside of her dorm at NYU, thoughts of her pink lips and blue eyes had been driving him crazy. Bellamy had never been in a serious relationship with a girl, they could never become a priority when he had his sister and mother to worry about. He acknowledged the fact that he was quite attractive and took advantage of that to fulfill his needs, maintaining a steady stream of young women leaving his room on weekends. If she was any other girl, she would probably be in bed with him right now, but Bellamy knew that if he wanted to pursue her, he'd have to take things slow. As corny as it was, Clarke wasn't any other girl. She was his princess.

It was a Sunday morning and even though his head pounded thanks to the remnants of last night's alcohol, Bellamy got out of bed to get ready for work as a tutor. Luckily, Bellamy excelled at academia and was able to tutor rich private school kids for pretty hefty sums of cash. He had a meeting with one of his favorite students, Charlotte. He knocked on Octavia's door to wake her up for work as well. She had come home the night before even later than Bellamy had, so he knew that she would be hungover, but she worked as a barista at Native Bean, a trendy coffee shop near their home.

Bellamy and Octavia could barely afford their small, two-bedroom apartment in Alphabet City, even with both of them working part-time and their mother's monthly checks. Their father had left them when they were young and Aurora brought him to court, thus earning alimony checks and allowing the family to stay in the city. Both of the Blake children were able to attend NYU, a private college, only because their mother worked as a secretary at the admissions center.

When Clarke had brought Bellamy to her apartment all those years ago, he had initially been bitter and upset that she was in fact a part of the elite society that he had trained himself to hate. All of that dissipated as he got to know her as the kind, caring, and generous girl she was back then. He knew that despite the years of pain, that girl was alive inside of Clarke and that the layer of heartache that she now coated herself with was itching for him to heal.

He didn't know why he felt so responsible for making her happy, or why he needed her to trust him, but there was no end that Bellamy wasn't willing to go to in order to achieve his new goals.

"Bellamy can you stop knocking on my door? I'm awake!" Octavia groaned from the depths of her room.

Bellamy hadn't realized that he'd been knocking on her door for so long, so he shook himself out of his thoughts and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

Clarke was lying in her bed quietly staring up at her ceiling. Clarke was feeling very emotionally vulnerable that morning and was quite thankful in that moment that she didn't have a prying roommate. Freshmen didn't typically have singles, but her mother had pulled some strings for her, without her permission of course. Clarke had been having slight trouble making friends thus far, her only friends being Monty and Jasper, two coding majors who lived on her floor. They had met during orientation and remained friends throughout the summer when she had stayed in the city.

She'd spent the summer doing an internship at The Metropolitan Museum of Art and living in a leased apartment near her old one. It had brought back a lot of memories of her days before moving to D.C. and reminded her just how much she had missed living in New York City. There was nothing that really compared to the lifestyle there and although D.C. was an urban city, it just didn't cut it for a native New Yorker.

It was almost noon and that was all the sleeping in that Clarke would let herself do. She had never been one to laze around, even on a Sunday afternoon. She grabbed her towel and toiletries and headed to the communal bathroom, something that she had slowly gotten used to.

After a shower, Clarke headed to Washington Square Park for a run before getting breakfast in the dining hall. She was doing her best to distract herself from thoughts of a certain boy with her regular activities, but was failing horribly. There was no way that she could forget the incredible make out session she had with him. It was probably one of the highest ranked kisses she'd ever had, and certainly one of the most memorable.

But... On a regular day, Clarke would take her time on her run through the park and maybe even slow to a stroll so she could people watch. It was one of her favorite hobbies, after all. She loved thinking about the lives of the seemingly infinite pedestrians who walked by her and their families, their stories, their perspectives, their beautiful, unique minds. It fascinated her to a never ending extent, but that Sunday afternoon, Clark could only think about one particular mind.

They had exchanged numbers before bidding each other goodnight just ten hours before, and her hands were itching to text him. Subconsciously Clarke kept feeling her phone buzz despite getting no new notifications.

Just as Clarke was about to admit defeat and text him, she saw that she was getting an incoming call from none other than Bellamy.

"Hello?" Clarke picked up the phone.

"Hey how's it going? How was the rest of your night?"

"Yeah it was pretty uneventful, I just went to sleep."

"Listen, I was calling to ask if you were busy tonight because I was wondering if you would... Maybe if you would want to come over for dinner," for once, Bellamy sounded young. His deep voice seemed almost like it was contradicting the small boy who was speaking at that moment.

"I-"

Bellamy cut Clarke off before she could finish speaking, "You know to see Octavia, she misses you."

The confident tone in his voice was back and Clarke knew that they both had our guard up.

"Of course. Text me the details. I'll see you then."

"I hope you like lasagna, have a nice day, princess," Clarke could practically hear the smugness radiating from his words.

She couldn't really hold back a smile and Bellamy could tell by the playful way she said "Bye Bellamy."

Clarke hung up the phone and the smile didn't leave her face as she stared down at it. She realized that they hadn't really bothered catching up the night before and was happy that they would have the opportunity to that night with Octavia.

She never wanted to admit it to herself, but Clarke had been so lonely since her father's death. After leaving for D.C., she had ignored all of the calls from her childhood friend, Wells, because he had reminded her of her happy times with her father (and even her mother) too much. She had isolated herself for so long, afraid that if she would let anyone in, they would leave her one way or another. She didn't let herself appear vulnerable because of how vulnerable she truly was inside. She hated feeling like her happiness relied on others, but she was slowly learning that she hated being miserable by herself even more.

She missed the warm acceptance that she got from being friends with Bellamy and that wasn't something she would pass up on again.

It seemed like the year was proceeding nicely for her.


End file.
